


Just Another December Night

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Christmas, Daily Prophet, Dating, Diagon Alley, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, Forgiveness, Happy Ending, Harry Is Finally Honest, Harry/Draco Owlpost Fest 2020, M/M, Meddling! Pansy, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pining Harry, Restaurants, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28215204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: A heartbroken Draco is finally cajoled into dating again by Pansy, but he gets the shock of his life when he sees who else is waiting at the restaurant.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 163
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2020





	Just Another December Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meandminniemcg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meandminniemcg/gifts).



> My dearest meandminniemcg. 
> 
> It was such an honour to write this for you. You are such a big part of the Drarry fandom and I love seeing your posts and talking to you over Discord. I really value your friendship. 
> 
> I hope that 2021 is healthy, happy and exciting for you and all the people you love. 
> 
> The title is a line from Mable's 2019 song: _Loneliest Time Of Year._

Draco pushed open the door of _La Licorne Bleue,_ anxious to be away from the tiny, bijou restaurant that sat on the corner of Artemisia Alley. 

His pulse was racing painfully and the heels of his boots slid over the sleet-slicked cobbles as he unceremoniously knotted the throat of his cloak. Draco knew that he ought to Apparate – ought to get away as soon he possibly could – but he didn’t quite dare. He was much too upset and were he to try the spell now he was very liable to botch it. The last thing that Draco needed, just a week before Christmas, was a splicing injury. 

Instead, the wizard decided to walk for a few minutes. It wasn’t late yet and the dreadful weather had at least decided to give him a few moments of respite. He hoped that the icy December air would untangle some of the gnarled thoughts filling his brain. 

Draco shivered into the collar of his cloak, more out of shock than actual cold. 

Harry had been sat in _La Licorne Bleue_ , wearing that lovely forest green jumper that Draco had brought for his birthday. It brought out his eyes. Harry’s hair had needed cutting – it was wild, tangled and unruly – but Harry had looked fit and well. He’d looked healthy. He’d been sipping from a glass of red wine and talking animatedly to the wizard sat beside him.

The mere sight of Harry had shattered Draco’s heart into half a dozen pieces.

It had only been three months since Harry had abruptly ended their love affair and Draco had thought, idiot that he was, that he was beginning to recover. He didn’t spend whole days wearing his pyjamas any more, sending out for Muggle takeaway whenever he got hungry, and ignoring Pansy’s owls. He didn’t sleep with Harry’s old tee shirt beneath his pillow, the sweet scent of the other wizard’s aftershave fading as the days slipped past. Draco had even sent all of Harry’s books and records back to Grimmauld Place. 

Draco had thought he was making progress. He’d thought that his heart was mending but he knew now that he’d been wrong. Draco wasn’t over Harry. He wasn’t over him in the slightest.

Just the sight of the wizard, nonchalantly smiling and enjoying an evening out had been enough to catapult Draco back to the very start of his heartache. He couldn’t fool himself any longer. He was every bit as much in love with Harry as he’d ever been. As he walked along, Draco slowly let out the lungful of breath he hadn’t known he was holding on to. 

He willed the Wrackspurts in his belly to calm and the trembling in his fingers to stop. 

Harry had been the last person that Draco had expected to see in _La Licorne Bleue_. He’d only agreed to go to the stupid bloody restaurant because Pansy had cajoled him into going on a date. Draco’s intended had been a Ministry chap that she knew from her job as a Wizengamot Filing Clerk. The wizard’s name was Lionel, and Pansy had assured Draco that he was a thoroughly good egg. 

“I’m not asking you to _marry_ him, darling,” Pansy had wheedled. “Just go out, have a couple of drinks and a giggle. I’ll be there, so if it all goes south faster than a broken broomstick we can make a sharp exit. He’s going to bring another fellow that he knows to make up the numbers.” Pansy had raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow in his direction. “You need to get out, Draco sweetie. The solitary recluse look doesn’t suit you even a _smidgen_. You need to get over Harry,” Pansy had added. “That Gryffindor git didn’t treat you the way you deserved.”

Draco had known full well that he wouldn’t be the best of company but, in the end, Pans had worn him down and he’d agreed to go on the date. He loved Pansy more than any sister and hadn’t wanted to let his best friend down. 

As he’d gotten ready Draco had even begun to look forward to his rare night out. _La Licorne Bleue_ had a reputation for delicious French cuisine and had even gotten a five star review in _The Prophet_. Draco had imagined having a bit of a laugh, drinking a couple of glasses of his favourite Sauvignon Rouge and looking elegant in his newest set of dress robes. 

Draco marched onwards, thoughts racing through his mind. _La Licorne Bleue_ was supposed to have been a respite. It was supposed to have been a brief interlude from the ache in his heart. It wasn’t supposed to cast him back down to the depths of despair. 

He turned the corner where Artemisia Alley became Diagon Alley and cast his eyes around the higgledy-piggledy emporiums and businesses of Magical London. Witches, wizards and Elves rushed between the attractive, glowing shops, their arms piled high with presents. Charmed fairy lights hung from the boughs of trees and the scents of gingerbread and cinnamon drifted on the breeze. Everything felt busy, festive and blissful.

Christmas was a time to be with the people you loved the most and Draco didn’t think he’d ever felt so alone as he did just then. 

Very few people had known about the love affair that Harry and he had enjoyed for over two wonderful years.

Draco would have loved to shout about it from the rooftops of the Ministry but Harry had been far more circumspect. Draco hadn’t been able to blame him for that, not really. Everything Harry did still drew headlines. A mere conversation with the dark haired wizard was enough to set the tabloids jangling with tittle-tattle and gossip. Had Harry found love? Was he engaged? Everybody in England wanted Harry married and settled with some pretty, eligible witch. Draco Malfoy, with his dubious past, his dubious Dark Mark and a Father in Azkaban wouldn’t have been anyone’s first choice for their precious Saviour. 

Harry hadn’t been ready to go public and reveal their relationship to friends and family either. The green eyed wizard had wanted to keep Draco his very own secret. “They’ll be spiteful headlines in the _Prophet,_ ” he’d said whenever they’d discussed telling the world they were a couple. “They’ll bring up your Dad’s Azkaban sentence… Bring up our childhoods. Talk about how we used to be rivals. They’ll spin lies about us and make what we’ve got together seem dirty. Make it seem wrong.”

Draco swallowed down his painful memories. What did any of them matter now, anyway? Harry had left him only three short months before, stating that he needed to focus on his Deputy Lead Auror job. Harry had said that he wasn’t ready to settle down and that he didn’t think he could give Draco what he wanted. He’d Flooed away and he’d left Draco broken into a million pieces. 

Draco snorted derisively, almost colliding with a young witch holding a huge pile of beautifully wrapped gifts. He muttered his apologies and stepped out of her way. Perhaps it was a good thing that they’d never told the world about their relationship. At least this way his and Harry’s break up hadn’t been plastered all over the front of the newspapers. The controversy would have lasted for days and the mortification would have been more than Draco could bear. 

Even so, the very vision of Harry’s handsome face had made Draco’s heart skip a beat. 

Pansy and he had ducked quickly into the cloakroom when they’d arrived at _La Licorne Bleue_ and spotted Harry sat beside Lionel. 

Wizarding London wasn’t the largest of communities but the coincidence had made Draco nauseous. Lionel’s friend – brought to make up the numbers! – had been Harry Potter. Of all the wizards in all of the city, it had to have been his ex-beloved sat there. 

Draco had rushed to the gents while Pansy had gone to their table and made some excuse up for him. The toilets were closer than the exits and Draco had known he’d likely draw eyes were he to have rushed to the door like he’d straightaway wanted to. His height and blond hair made him recognisable wherever he went. The last thing Draco has wanted was to make a scene and have Harry rush out after him. There’d have been whispers – been _gossip_ – and Draco couldn’t abide that idea at all. 

Standing before the bathroom mirror, Draco had done his best to calm his racing nerves. He had splashed cold water on his flushed face and tried his best to get his breathing under some semblance of control.

 _Why_ had he thought this was a good idea? Draco wasn’t even close to being over Harry and wasn’t sure now that he ever would be. 

He had waited five long minutes, gathered his frayed dignity together and finally made his way to the door. Thank Merlin that he hadn’t collided with Harry on the way out. All Draco had wanted was to go home to his Half-Moon Place Apartment before crying himself to sleep on the settee. He decided there and then that he loathed the stupid festive season with all his heart, most especially the merry, loving couples that seemed to everywhere, kissing beneath the mistletoe and brimming with Christmas cheer. 

Mired in a cauldron of angst and upset, Draco failed to notice a loose cobblestone. His heel caught it at an awkward angle and he felt himself suddenly, _sickeningly,_ slipping through space. 

Draco braced himself for the hurt and humiliation of hitting the ground but the expected pain never arrived. He never hit the cobblestones. Instead, powerful arms wrapped around him, taking his weight and stopping him from falling over. Draco didn’t even have the time to understand that he’d been saved before he found himself once again stood upright, swaying a little as firm hands gripped his shoulders. 

Draco turned around to face his saviour. He locked gazes with the one wizard who’d always been there to save him. The one wizard that Draco had thought he’d managed to avoid. He ought to have _known_ that he’d never be that lucky.

His saviour was the one wizard in the world that still had the ability to shake his very soul. 

“Harry,” Draco said, his voice still unsteady from nearly slipping over. “I ought have known that _you’d_ be the one to save me. You’ve never been able to resist a chap in distress, have you?” Draco paused and shook away his hurt pride. Pansy had told he shouldn’t pick at his heartbreak. He knew that harsh words with Harry would be the perfect way to destroy an already ruined evening. “I’m sorry,” Draco said after a couple of beats had passed, pleased his voice sounded a little firmer now. “You stopped me from falling. Thank you.”

Harry furrowed his brow at Draco’s formal language. 

“You weren't looking where you’re going,” Harry observed, sounding more worried than Draco would have expected. “You nearly knocked that poor witch over a few paces back.” Harry gaze flitted back over the path Draco had taken. Artemisia Alley and the restaurant quarter was still partially visible. “You were just in _La Licorne Bleue_ ,” Harry said. “I watched you leave.” He gave Draco a wry smile. “You’re nearly six foot tall and you’re wearing cerise dress robes! You’re hardly inconspicuous.”

Draco felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He’d really believed that he’d made a smooth exit. Instead, all he’d done was expose to Harry exactly how upset their breakup still made him feel. He couldn’t have been more obvious had he have charmed _‘I still love you’_ to float between them in gigantic sparkly lights! Draco pulled his cloak closer round his body. He was determined to extricate himself from this utter humiliation as soon as he possibly could. Draco’s pride was in pieces on the floor. 

“Why did you run away?” Harry continued when Draco didn’t deign to reply. “You bolted like a spooked horse. I… Well, I’d have liked to talk to you, Draco. It’s been a long time. Twelve weeks. I don’t think we’ve ever gone that length of time without seeing each other.” He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the sleeve of the green jumper he wore. Draco realised with a jolt of surprise that Harry wasn’t wearing his coat. He must have rushed out of the restaurant without it. “I wasn’t going to come out tonight,” Harry continued. “I only came to keep Lionel company. He’s a fellow I know from the Ministry… He had a date. Imagine my amazement when _Pansy_ turned up at _our_ table– ” 

Draco didn’t want to have this conversation with Harry. His ex-lover’s words were hurried, falling from his mouth in a torrent. Draco’s stomach twisted. He didn’t need a crystal ball to knew where this conversation was heading. Harry could be a very oblivious wizard on occasion but even he couldn’t fail to put two and two together.

All of a sudden the colour blanched from Harry’s features and he took a step backwards. Realisation had hit home and Draco winced. Even though he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, Draco still felt terrible. 

“Circe’s _eyes,_ ” Harry said, his green eyes bright with emotion. “You were the date, weren't you Draco? Pansy said that the chap had to go home poorly. That was you, wasn't it? _You_ were Lionel’s date. Merlin’s blasted wand! You’ve moved on and it’s only been three months. I should have put it together before. Lionel _said_ that the wizard was arty and that he was a posh sort.”

“I work in an art gallery,” Draco replied, trying for levity. He wanted to break the tension that had skyrocketed between the pair of them like a hex. “You know I can scarcely draw a straight line.”

His joke didn’t fly though. Harry didn’t even break a smile. 

“And then you ran away when you saw me sat there,” Harry concluded. He shook his head. “I hardly blame you,” he continued. He held Draco’s gaze, Harry’s green eyes melting into his grey ones. “I treated you abysmally. It’s only what I deserve.”

For the briefest of moments Draco felt angry with Harry. It wasn’t fair that his ex-lover was standing there, making _him_ feel bad. A quick retort bubbled in Draco’s throat and he wanted to tell his ex-beau that he’d been the one to walk away from everything that had mattered! Harry had been the one who had Flooed away, leaving Draco bereft. Draco had every right to go out on a date if he so wished. He shouldn’t have to comfort Harry over his choices. That wasn’t fair. 

Draco looked at Harry. He was frowning and looked disconcerted about his _La Licorne Bleue_ realisation. The way that Harry was looking at him was so intense that it nearly took Draco’s breath.

Agitation danced over the other man’s features and Draco was half-sure for a second that Harry was going to carry on speaking and say something important. 

Harry didn’t though. He just stood there. 

“I only fled to avoid a scene,” Draco answered, filling the uneasy silence. He tried to keep his voice from shaking as he drove his hand into his robe pocket. His wand was in its special pouch and Draco closed his fingers around it. He really ought to leave. With every word that he shared with Harry his resolve faltered a little more. Draco was stood so close now that he could smell Harry’s sweet, citrusy aftershave. The familiarity of it made his knees feel shaky. He swallowed weakly.

“And I wanted to avoid the conversation that we’re currently having! You made your decision. You picked your career and your reputation over me and I’ve accepted that! I never argued once with your conclusions. Thank you for your chivalry, Harry, but I think I had really _ought_ – ” 

Harry shook his head and cut into Draco’s words. “I don’t know how you can be so calm!” he said, his voice full of blatant, childlike hurt. “The idea of you having a date with Lionel, of _all_ the wizards in the world.” He made a small scoffing noise. “He’s a good man but he’s plain. Boring! You’re brilliant and sparking. You shouldn’t make do with just anybody, Draco. You deserve a prince.”

That really was too much! Harry was overstepping the mark. Draco felt his ire rise up to the surface and his words spilled out before he could rein them in. 

“I deserve a man that isn’t ashamed to take me to restaurants,” Draco replied sharply, his voice getting louder with every word he spoke. “I deserve a man who’ll tell his friends about me! A man who’ll hold my hand when we walk out together. None of which you were willing to do, however _‘brilliant and sparking’_ I might have been!” Draco bristled, feeling his magic radiate from him in infuriated waves. “I adored you, Harry! I loved you but then you left me! You broke my heart! Now, if you’ll please excuse me? Just- Just have a good Christmas.”

Draco pulled his cloak around his body and began to leave. Unwanted tears threatened to spill as he stepped away. Draco didn’t want Harry to know how desolate he felt, and he swore that he wouldn’t – _couldn’t_ – look back at the only man he’d ever really loved.

Harry didn’t let Draco go, though. For the second time in only a few minutes Harry’s strong, calloused hands touched Draco’s skin. 

Harry’s fingers circled Draco’s wrist gently. “Wait,” Harry said. “ _Please_. Don’t run away from me again. I’ve got something I need to say and it shouldn’t take more than a few minutes of your time, I promise.”

Draco didn’t speak. He didn’t have the words. He stared at the floor, unwilling to meet Harry’s verdent green gaze. Draco could feel the heat of his ex- lover; feel his potent solidity. Draco’s heart pounded just from being in proximity with Harry, his body reacting every bit as strongly to the other wizard as it always had. 

“I made the worst mistake of my life the day that I left you,” Harry said, his breath hitching on his final word. “The very worst mistake. I knew it as soon as I walked into your Floo. There’s not been a single day where I haven’t wanted to come to you, Draco. There’s not been a single day where you weren’t the first and the last person that I thought about.” He cast his eyes down onto the grimy cobblestones. “It seems I’ve been the same thickhead you always said I was at school. I’ve made the worst mistake and now you’ve moved on with your life. My brilliant, sparkling Draco is going on dates with other people.”

Draco could hardly believe the words that were leaving Harry’s mouth. “But _you_ said you weren't ready to settle down,” Draco whispered, unable to keep his eyes from flicking up to Harry’s face. The other man looked truly anguished. He watched as Harry tangled his fingers in the knotty curls of his hair. “You said that you couldn’t give me the life I wanted.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Harry confessed. “There was an article in the _Prophet_ … It was just a throwaway thing, a stupid list of eligible wizards and my name was at the top. It said some daft rubbish next to it, said that nobody had ever been able to capture my heart. I wanted to storm into their offices and tell them all about you. I wanted to tell them how you’d made my life better with every day that we’d been a couple. How you gave me a reason to carry on after the War when everything felt bleak… I-I even wanted to tell them how your smile brightened up a room. But I didn’t, Draco. I didn’t.”

Draco felt like he’d been _Stupefied_. The two of them had always laughed about the fawning articles that the Prophet liked to publish about their favourite Chosen One. They’d never taken them seriously. 

“You hurt me over that?” Draco asked, the incredulity in his voice loud and plain. “Hurt me over the bloody _Prophet_ and their preposterous stories?”

“It wasn’t only that,” Harry answered quietly. “When I got home a Ministry owl brought me my invite to the DMLE Christmas Ball. It asked my to bring my plus one and I felt disgusted with myself. _Disgusted_. I knew that I’d kept you completely to myself, Draco. I never wanted to share what we had. I knew then I'd been so damnably selfish… Before I knew it I was breaking up from you. I wanted you to find a person who deserved you– ” 

“Wouldn’t you have been better _talking_ to me? Telling me how you felt?” Draco cut in. His mind was reeling over what Harry had just said. Despite his every good intention, Draco felt a traitorous sapling of hope begin to take root in his heart. “I was part of the relationship too! Surely I deserved to be part of that discussion?”

“But that’s me all over,” Harry replied. “Impulsive and stupid. The same idiotic Gryffindor prat that I was when I was eleven.” He sighed and huffed out a breath. Draco watched it curl around Harry’s handsome features. “And I knew if we talked then you’d convince me to stay. I wanted to do the right thing by you, Draco. As soon as the words were leaving my mouth? I knew straight away that I was losing everything that mattered to me. I’ve wanted to send you my owl every single day but I never dared. Pretty pathetic for a supposed _hero_. I’m meant to be brave but I couldn’t. Now you’ve moved on and I’ve left everything too late.”

Draco watched the bustling crowds move around the pair of them. None of them paid them any heed. All those other witches and wizards were thinking about was securing that special last present or visiting the food emporium before it closed for the day. Their cheeks were flushed from the cold and there was laughter on their lips. Not one of them could have any idea of the life-alerting conversation that Harry and he were sharing. 

“I’m sorry that I left,” Harry concluded. “It was the most foolish mistake of my life. You _do_ deserve a prince. I only wish that it could have been me, but I’ve left it too late.”

Draco felt incredibly conflicted. Part of him wanted to scream at Harry. He wanted to tell him that heroism didn’t mean you needed to sacrifice your own happiness into the bargain. Another part of Draco wanted Harry to keep speaking. If Harry was still talking he was still at Draco’s side. He hadn’t left and then Draco wouldn’t have to be alone once again. 

The biggest part of Draco wanted to wrap his arms around Harry. The biggest part of Draco wanted to kiss Harry with all the love that still held his heart captive. He knew that if he took the latter option then he’d melt into Harry’s arms and never, ever want to leave. 

“It _isn’t_ too late,” Draco said, taking a small step closer. He had to gather up all the rough ends of his courage but he couldn’t let Harry make any more mistakes. Draco reached for Harry’s cold fingers and knotted them together with his own. He rubbed his thumb over the back of Harry’s hand before he spoke again. “I thought I’d begun to move on, but I hadn’t. Not really. Tonight was just a pretence. I wanted to forget, just for a few hours. Dress up – drink a few glasses of wine! – and pretend that my heart wasn’t splintered.”

Harry’s green eyes searched Draco’s own. He seemed pleased with what he found there. 

“I meant it, when I said that I wanted to talk to you, Draco,” Harry said quietly. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small box from the depths of the material. “I’ve been carrying this about with me for most of the last twelve weeks. It’s never been far from my side.” The box was made of worn purple velvet. Draco could feel the powerful hum of ancient magic when Harry freed his hand from Draco’s own to open it. “I wanted to give it to you this for Christmas, Draco, but I think that perhaps you better have it now.”

Harry placed the box into Draco’s open palm. Inside was a ring, made of goblin-wrought silver. A very familiar crest adorned it and Draco slipped the ring out from its satin bed. The metal felt warm and magical on the pads of his fingertips. 

_“Toujours pur,”_ Draco read aloud as he took in the greyhounds and the sword. _“Always pure.”_ Draco shook his head. “Harry, I can’t accept this! This was Sirius’s ring. Your Godfather! This was his signet ring, the one that he always wore. This was part of his bequest to you.”

“I wanted to see you wearing it,” Harry answered, placing his hand around Draco’s and gently folding his fingers around the ring “Sirius was your family too. Grimmauld Place is a part of your heritage. It’s a part of yours, and your Mother’s family history.” Harry’s hand was warm and steady around Draco’s own and Draco revelled in it. He’d missed Harry so much. “These last few weeks have been some of the worst of my life and being alone? Well, it’s given me a lot of time to think. A lot of time to consider what I really want.”

”And what is that?” Draco asked, hearing a catch in his voice. “What is it that you truly want?”

Slowly, Harry removed his hand. He took the ring and slipped it on Draco’s finger. It slid over his knuckle with ease and Draco felt the frisson of its deep magic bonding with his own. 

“I want you to wear this ring,” Harry said, “and I want you to move into Grimmauld Place too. It’s always been the place you most belonged. You and I should live there together. You rightful place is by my side, Draco. I love you and I always have. I’ve finally begun to be honest with myself. Now I want to be honest with the rest of the world.”

Draco looked down at the ring. The warmth and weight of the metal felt reassuring. Goblin-silver never tarnished and it never scratched. This was a commitment like Harry had never offered before. Draco looked back at the other wizard. For the very first time that evening Harry looked optimistic. “I’ve said so much,” he said, “and you’ve said so little. What do you think? Are you willing to try again? Give us another chance?”

“It can’t be the same,” Draco replied, taking Harry’s hand once more. “It can’t be. I won’t be your secret any longer. I want to be your plus one for the Ball. I want to hold your hand while we walk along the cobbles. I want the horrible _Prophet_ headlines because once they’re here then they’ll be gone. I _know_ they’ll accept us eventually. It might take a little time but the world will get used to us – the Death Eater and their Saviour! – and so will your friends.”

Harry nodded, a broad smile washing over his face. “Can I take you to the Weasley Christmas party tomorrow?” he asked, stepping impossibly close and snaking an arm around Draco’s waist. “Would you be my plus one? It’s loud and chaotic but I promise that I’ll never leave your side.”

Draco considered Harry thoughtfully. He’d never suggested such a public date before. They’d be the talk of the wizarding world come Christmas but Draco found he didn’t much care. Suddenly the future felt bright and full of possibilities. Draco felt his tummy rumble, reminding him that neither of them had yet to eat their dinner.

“Alright,” Draco agreed, letting his body press against Harry’s own and enjoying the other wizard’s delicious body heat. “But first I think we should have dinner. I’m famished, I’m all dressed up and we’re surrounded by some fantastic restaurants.”

“Anywhere except _La Licorne Bleue_ ,” Harry answered with a wince before pressing a soft, tickly kiss on the sensitive spot beneath Draco’s ear. “I’ll collect my coat another day. I never want to be reminded of the sight of you running away from me again, Draco Malfoy. I promise I’m going to spend the rest of my days being the prince that you deserve.”

Draco laughed. He already felt like he could open his heart to Harry and trust him fully once more. He’d been dreading the isolation and loneliness another year would bring but now he felt like he could look forward with joy and optimism.

“Well it _is_ Christmas,” Draco answered as the two of them began to walk, hand in hand, back towards Artemisia Alley. “Traditionally the time when your dearest wishes are granted.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
